Dark Room

Simon's voice came on the line. 'Dr. Protheroe? Do you remember me? I'm a friend of Jinx Kingsley. I came to visit her on Thursday.'

'I remember,' he said.

'I find myself in a somewhat invidious position,' said the younger man in a voice that was clearly troubled. He paused briefly. 'Has Jinx told you that Meg and Leo are dead, Dr. Protheroe?'

Alan raised a hand to his beard and smoothed it automatically. 'No,' he said.

'They were murdered, probably on the same day that she tried to kill herself.'

Alan stared across the room at a print of Albrecht Diirer's Knight, Death, and the Devil and thought how appropriate it was that he should be looking at that. 'I'm so sorry, Mr. Harris. You must be very upset.'

'We've not had much time to be upset,' said Simon apologetically. 'We had the police here until an hour ago.'

'I'm sorry,' said Alan again. 'What makes you think Jinx knows?'

'Her assistant told me.'

'You mean Dean Jarrett?'

'Yes.'

'How does he know?'

Simon sighed. 'Apparently the police visited her yesterday and she guessed something was wrong. She rang Dean during the evening and persuaded him to phone the Walladers for confirmation.' He paused again. 'She knew before we did as a matter of fact. My parents weren't told until ten o'clock last night and only made the formal identification this morning. My mother's very bitter about it. She's blaming Jinx for Meg's death.'

Alan wondered what else his patient had withheld from him. 'Why are you telling me this?' he asked.

Another hesitation. 'As I said, I find myself in an invidious position. My father, too.' He cleared his throat. 'It's difficult to think straight when you're shocked ... well, I'm sure you know that-' He broke off abruptly. 'Sir Anthony Wallader is going to The Times with accusations against Jinx and her father, egged on by my mother. It's understandable. They're both very upset, as you can imagine-well, of course we all are.' He blew his nose. 'I've no idea how much the newspapers are likely to print, but it could be very bad, especially if the tabloids get hold of it. My mother's not very well. She's, that is-Dad and I felt Jinx should be protected from the worst of it- it's little better than a kangaroo court-and I didn't know who else to phone. I thought she'd have told you-about their deaths anyway.' His voice broke with emotion. 'I'm sorry-I'm so sorry.'

Alan listened to the quiet tears at the other end of the line. 'I wouldn't worry too much,' he said with a calm he didn't feel. 'Jinx is an extraordinarily tough young woman''-even he hadn 't realized till now just how tough-'and I'm confident it's only a matter of days before her memory returns in full and she's able to set minds at rest.' He thought for a moment. 'Presumably we're talking about speculation and not fact? If there were any evidence against Miss Kingsley, the police would have confronted her by now. Am I right?''

Simon fought for composure. 'As far as I understand it, yes, but we've been told very little. Sir Anthony's known since Saturday morning and he said that Leo had been bludgeoned to death ... The same way Russell Landy was.'

'Does Jinx's father know Meg and Leo are dead?'

'I don't think so. Dad and I think their intention is to hit Jinx while she's vulnerable, but we can't see justice being done that way.'

Alan was curious. 'You're being very generous to her, Mr. Harris.'

'Things aren't as straightforward as they might seem,' Simon said tightly. 'We're worried about my mother, and we don't want Jinx's suicide on our conscience. She'll be under a lot of pressure when the news breaks, and what she's tried once, it seems likely she could try again.'

'Well, on that score at least I don't think you need worry,' said Alan slowly. 'If I had any doubts at all about her mental equilibrium, you've just laid them to rest. Thank you for letting me know, Mr. Harris.'

He said good-bye and replaced the receiver with a thoughtful frown. What on earth was going on here? Did Adam Kingsley know? Is that why he'd sent Kennedy? God almighty! Were he and the clinic being dragged into some sort of conspiracy to pervert the course of justice? 'SHI-IT!' he roared at Knight, Death, and the Devil. Why the hell had he agreed to take the bloody woman in?

He sought out Veronica Gordon, the sister in charge. 'I've had it up to here,' he told her, chopping at his throat. 'I'm going AWOL for a few hours. If there's an emergency, get Nigel White to deal with it.' He thought for a moment. 'But if it's an emergency concerning Miss Kingsley, call me on the mobile. No,' he corrected himself, 'we'll go one step farther where she's concerned. I want her checked every half hour without fail. Got that? A physical check by you or one of the nurses every thirty minutes, and if you're worried at all, page me. Okay?'

Veronica nodded. 'Any particular reason?'

'No,' he growled, 'just a safety precaution. Her father sent his blasted solicitor over to give me an ear bashing, and he's put the wind up me. I don't want to be sued for negligence if she takes it into her head to do something stupid.'

'She won't,' said the woman with confidence.

'Why are you so sure?'

'I've watched her. Everyone does exactly what she wants, including you, Alan, and people like that don't hang up their boots lightly.'

'She's already had one go.'

'Balls!' said Veronica with an amiable grin. 'She may want her daddy to think she did, but if it had been a serious attempt, she'd be dead. My guess is, there were a lot of hidden agendas at work when she threw herself out of her car, and a little fatherly sympathy was one of them. Mind you,' she added thoughtfully, 'she didn't research the science of movable objects hitting solid tarmac very thoroughly. I'm not convinced severe concussion